


Happy F*cking Holidays

by Golden_Au



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Error swears a fucking lot, Error swears a lot, Gift Fic, Haphephobia, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Multi, Naughty things happen, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sanscest - Freeform, The naughtiness is pretty tame, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Au/pseuds/Golden_Au
Summary: Sometimes, you need to place an order way ahead of time to make sure it gets here in time for the holidays. Error didn't exactly realize that's what he was doing when he fell into bed with Ink but, well...Ink now had an interesting Gyftmas present to open this year.
Relationships: Background Afterdeath-relationship, Background Geno/Reaper, Error/Ink, Errorink-Relationship, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 242





	1. Well... fuck.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TKWolf45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKWolf45/gifts).



> **Merry Christmas, Inkwolf!** I hope you enjoy this little oneshot!

It starts with something… simple. Then again, maybe simple was the wrong word here because sex? It’s not that simple. It was  _ never _ that simple, really. At least, not when you took into consideration the fact that one of the participants struggled with a phobia based around  _ touch.  _ And what did you need for sex? A whole lot of touching. 

Still, sex as an isolated concept wasn’t all that difficult to understand. Haphephobia aside, it wasn’t too difficult a task to perform, either. Once they found a workaround for Error’s fears, things went… maybe not smoothly, but well. So well in fact that Ink and Error succeeded. They had sex. Slightly awkward but extremely pleasant sex. And that there was the not-so-simple-yet-simple start. The start to what, you ask? 

Well— 

With a loud, wet retch, Error’s knees hit the tiles of a bathroom floor hard just as he lurched forward and lost all the lunch in his stomach to a wave of nausea. Shuddering with the force of his sickness, he clenched his sockets shut tightly and gripped the porcelain edges of the toilet his head was practically submerged in, grounding himself the best he could while choking and gasping between fits of illness. 

_ ‘Fuck… fuck…!’  _ he tried to actually say the words, but all he could manage was a pitiful whimper that soon transitioned into a pathetic sob.  _ ‘Fuckfuck _ **_fuck.’_ **

“Error…”

From the corner of his tearful, blurred vision, Error caught sight of an outstretched hand. Instinctively, he flinched back just to fall forward again when the sudden motion caused more unpleasant churning in his stomach that resulted in another spew of vomit. “D...don’t…” he choked out, attempting to save himself the added discomfort of touch. And yet, the hand didn’t retreat.

Instead, it reached over his hunched form and flushed the toilet. “It’s okay, Error. I’m not going to touch you, understand? I’m not going to touch you.” 

Oh, that was… good. That was really-

The toilet flushed again after his newest fit of nausea ended. “If I use magic and a towel, could I rub your back, Error?” Weakly, the skeleton in question shook his head. Sometimes substitutions like that worked, but he was too worked up at the moment for his brain to make the distinction between artificial contact and real contact with another living creature. “Okay… okay, that’s fine. Do you want me to get you a toothbrush and a warm blanket instead?” A pause. “Should I call Ink back from the store?”

Two nods and a single shake of the head.  _ Yes, yes,  _ and  **_hell fucking no._ **

There was an answering affirmative followed by some rummaging around a few feet away. Too tired to turn around just yet, Error groaned and let his forehead rest on the edge of the toilet seat. Was it disgusting? Yes. Did he give a single fuck at the moment? No, no he did not. “Ugh…”

“Toothbrush is on the sink, Error. I’ll go toss a blanket in the dryer for you. Do you… think you can make it back downstairs? If not, you can take a nap in my bed for a while. You… kind of look like you need it.”

“You get… f-fucked in th...that bed…” And from what he knew about his self proclaimed brother and his husband’s love life—which was far more than he ever wanted to know—Geno got fucked in that bed  _ often.  _ “I… I’m n-not sleeping in… i-in your f-fucking filth.”

“Oh grow up you over-sized child. You act like we never change the bedding or wash the mattress… or have sex on the other surfaces you’ve sat on and at before.” The living room sofa, the kitchen table… he and Reaper got around. “I just sat and watched you vomit, Error. I know you’re fake gagging right now.” When he didn’t stop, Geno rolled his singular eyelight and shook his head, sighing, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? Before you head down though, just… consider using what I left by your toothbrush. I know denial runs in the family, but… the evidence is stacking up against you, Error, and I think it’s about time you stop pretending like nothing is happening and get a definitive answer that even  _ you  _ can’t ignore.”

If he had more energy, Error would have flipped the shorter skeleton off on his way out. He knew exactly what it was that Geno left by his toothbrush and he… 

Was going to fucking puke.  _ Again. _

_ ‘It’s just food poisoning,’  _ he told himself after his little session was done and there was nothing left within him to choke out. 

_ ‘It’s just food poisoning,’  _ he thought as he flushed his mess down the toilet.

_ ‘It’s just food poisoning,’  _ he decided while brushing his teeth, though Error’s conviction wavered as his gaze dropped to the box innocently awaiting use from it’s spot next to the sink.  _ ‘It… it’s just…’ _

…

…

…

“Positive,” Error whispered sometime later with his shorts around his ankles and a little pink stick held between trembling hands. “It’s… it’s fucking positive…”

He was pregnant. 

_ He,  _ Error, was pregnant. 

And Ink was the father. 

* * *

_ The holiday isn’t for another month, but Ink either forgot about that little fact or doesn’t really care as he continues a slew of Gyftmas present themed jokes and puns. Admittedly, a few were actually pretty funny and the hideous snorting laughter Ink would burst into after every punchline was… endearing, if Error were being honest. Honesty was for chumps though, so he was going with Ink’s laughter being really fucking annoying instead.  _

_ “If you’re wrapping me up like a present, then does that make you Santa Claus, Error?” Expression one of false irritation, Error remains silent as he continues his task of threading string between the artist’s radius and ulna. Ink doesn’t let his apparent grumpiness or silence deter him though and continues with a cheeky grin. “It does? Well then, does that mean I get treated to the  _ sack  _ like all the other presents? Get it, Error? Because Santa carries presents in a sack? But also a sack as in your balls?” _

_ It’s not the dirtiest joke Ink has made, but it still brings golden heat to Error’s face in unsubtle blush. “Tch, idiot. Who says that  _ you  _ get to be the one having fun?” _

_ Still snorting and giggling from his joke, Ink’s response comes out light with good humor and laughter. “It’s sex, Error. Sex is fun no matter who has the dick or the pus-” _

_ Embarrassed, Error chose that moment to given an experimental tug on a few strings, conveniently causing Ink to interrupt himself with a breathy noise of… hopefully pleasure. It… it  _ was  _ pleasure, right? Just to be sure, he busiest himself by tying off a few knots to seem unconcerned even as he murmured a hesitant, “Feeling okay, squid?” _

_ “O-oh yeah, I’m feeling…  _ very  _ okay,” Ink replied, blushing. There was a moment of silence, then… “We could have sex with  _ two  _ dicks and it’d still be fun, you know? Or with two-” _

_ “Just… shut up. I’m trying to concentrate here, idiot.”  _

_ “You’re not done?” _

_ He was, but Error wasn’t exactly ready to admit that yet. “No, so stop distracting me. The last thing I need is to fuck this up because your idiocy kept stealing away all my attention.” _

_ “My idiocy, eh? Hehe, is  _ that  _ what they’re calling nudity now?” _

_ At the mention of nudity, Error flushed with a brighter hue of yellow and very pointedly did not let himself take in Ink’s current naked state. “Next time, I’m tying you up in your clothes just so I can leave you here to suffer in discomfort.” _

_ Ink catches onto his mistake before Error does. “Next time? There’s going to be a next time?! Oh Error—Ruru—this is the best Gyftmas present ever!” _

_ “I-its November, fucker!”  _

_ Again, Ink latches onto his poor choice of words before Error can even realize he fucked up. This time however, the reply comes paired with a heated gaze and a sensual tone. _

_ “Fucker, huh? So you decided that you wanted me to top?” _

_ Silence. Then, nervously, Error twitched his fingers in yet another testing tug of the threads laced all around Ink’s form. This time, he didn’t stop after Ink’s first responsive mewl of pleasure though. Instead, he carefully curled each and every phalange and watched the complex set up of strings shift over primarily white bone. By the time he was sure everything was set up correctly, Ink was trembling in his restraints with colorful magic lighting up his joints and swirling low in his pelvis; aroused, yet unformed.  _

_ “E-Error…?”  _

_ Swallowing down a nervous stutter, Error connected their gazes and slowly brought Ink down to the bed he had the other skeleton hovering over all this time. “Don’t… don’t move, okay? Not unless I say you can. And no touching without permission, got it?”  _

_ It seemed kinky, but they both knew the importance behind the directions. For all the progress they made in regards to his aversion to touch, he and Ink still had a ways to go before he could consider his phobia conquered. They practiced holding hands and tested his limits for hugs, but sex…? This was new, unknown territory. A single unexpected, misplaced touch could send him spiraling and end what was meant to be an overall pleasant and enjoyable experience on a sour note. In order to avoid this, they made their rules: Error would run the show and Ink would add whatever contributions the infamous destroyer allowed. Plain and simple… by their definitions, at least. _

_ “Yeah, I got it, Ru,” Ink breathed. _

_ Sporting a shaky smile, Error climbed onto the bed then crawled further still until he hovered over Ink with his knees braced on either side of the shorter skeleton’s hips. “G-good.” _

_ With that, Error leaned down and lightly pressed their smiles together. _

* * *

It’s not a hand in his own, but the near nonexistent weight of the pregnancy test he holds burns like a touch all the same. Flinching, Error dropped the thin piece of plastic and clutched his skull in trembling hands. “F...fuck…  **_fuck!”_ **

Pregnant.  _ Pregnant.  _

And Error can’t even say he’s surprised.

“Food poisoning, huh?” 

His previous desperate claim left him laughing. The little stick on the floor between his feet proved that this was more than simple nausea from bad food. So did the other five test now buried in the trash. And yet, he knew long before this very moment that he carried Ink’s child. Denial was a powerful force, but even it couldn’t stand indefinitely in the face of undeniable proof.

Laughter now hysteric, Error gazed down at the ecto covering his thighs. Usually, it was hidden beneath the shorts still around his ankles. Shorts that he didn’t yet bother yanking up. Instead, he dropped a hand from his head in order to take his hold of the hem of his shirt. Then, he tugged it up.

“Hey, undeniable proof...s,” he whispered when his laughter died.

Subconsciously aware of Error’s attention, not one, but two little pale souls glowed with ingrained affection. 

* * *

_ For the first time in his life, Error experiences a burn upon contact with another that can be considered pleasurable. Hissing through clenched teeth, he threw his head back and shuddered as his inner walls struggled to grow used to the member buried deep within his heat. Below his trembling form, Ink grew tense with the struggle to remain still, the pseudo muscle of his summon formed flexing with the effort. _

_ “Error… o-oh stars, Error, please move. Please, p-please move-!” _

_ “Not… n-not yet…” _

_ Drunk off of pleasure and a shot of pink paint, Ink resorts to babbling pleas in an attempt to get his way. “Please, Error, oh pleasepleaseplease…! You… y-you’re so tight. Stars, so,  _ so  _ tight and so… so good. P-perfect.” When he blinked, tears fell from Ink’s eyes. He didn’t know if they were from pleasure or pure desperation. “P-please, Ru, I… I need you to move.” _

_ “N-no…!” He isn’t- it still-! “I… I’m not r-ready.” _

_ “Wh… what aren’t you ready for? Y-you’re sitting on m-my dick, Ru,” Ink reminded him with a strained laugh. “And it d-doesn’t look like i-it hurts, either.” _

_ It does, but not in a bad way. And that? That isn’t something Error knows how to deal with. It isn’t something he’s used to. _

_ “C’mon, Ru,” the artist murmurs, “make yourself feel good. M-make  _ us  _ feel good.” _

_ Nervous beyond belief but aching in a manner still new to him, Error swallowed before shakily pressing his palms flat against Ink’s chest. He has to be mindful of moving his fingers when the threads decorating each phalange all lead back to Ink, but he soon finds that clinging to that mindfulness is difficult. A small shift results in toe curling pleasure. A steady rock leaves him breathless. A simple rise and fall motion? It’s… mind numbing. And that can be dangerous. _

_ Only, it isn’t, because Error, faced with risking discomfort or putting Ink at harm, makes the split decision between one shaky rise and exhilarating fall to release his hold on the artist.  _

_ “Error-” _

_ “Fuck me,” he interrupts, legs shaking as he struggles to reach a faster pace. “Fuck me, In-” _

_ Like a man starved, Ink surges up and devours his demand with a kiss. _

* * *

If he wasn’t already laughing through a mental breakdown, then Error would have laughed at the irony of his situation. Pregnant, and with twins no less because  _ of course.  _ Of course the infamous  _ destroyer,  _ known for tearing the beloved creations of others to shreds would create not just one, but  _ two _ forms of life with his arch nemesis turned boyfriend. And  _ of course  _ that boyfriend, The  _ Protector  _ himself, didn’t use fucking  _ protection  _ when they fucked.

“What the fuck was I even expecting?” Good sex with no consequences? The absurdity. “You fucking  _ idiot.” _

“I’m going to assume that wasn’t directed at me. And my assumption better be correct.”

If Geno didn’t stomp when he walked, Error would have startled at his sudden appearance. “Can I have some fucking privacy here?” He growled instead, motioning to the shorts still dropped around his ankles. “Why are you even here? I thought you were playing nurse and getting me a warm blanket.”

“You’ve been up here for quite some time, Error. So long in fact that your warm blanket is cold. And if you want privacy, then close the bathroom door, otherwise people are going to assume you want to talk...” Geno’s eyelight trailed from his seated form to the little stick on the floor. “... _ Do  _ you want to talk, Error?”

“You give shitty gifts.”

The glitch shook his head with a sigh, “Error…”

“You could have given me socks, or… or underwear-”

“You don’t wear underwear.”

“-or anything else in the fucking world. What did you get me though? A box of fucking pregnancy tests. Next time you do your holiday shopping in the damn medicine aisle, get me tums.”

“Error.”

“Fuck off.”

Ignoring his partial nudity, Geno crouched down so that he could better see Error’s face and smiled with a soft, understanding expression. “Error, it’s going to be okay.”

Okay huh?

* * *

_ Before Ink even nears orgasm, Error tips over the edge of his own with a force that leaves him trembling on the verge of a crash. Head thrown back, sockets wide and full of text, he gasped and shuddered all while struggling not to lock up in place when his boyfriend was buried deeply in his slickened heat. _

_ “E-Error,” Ink panted, coming to an abrupt stop. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to…?”  _

_ Rather than complete his sentence, Ink shifted in an attempt to pull himself free, unintentionally worsening his trembling when the artist’s movement provided more delicious yet overwhelming friction. _

_ Breath stuttering in his chest, Error clamped his legs around the other skeleton’s waist and yanked him back with a tortured cry. “D-don’t… don’t stop, idiot.” _

_ “But Error, you-” _

_ “Feel good.”  _

_ Better than good, really. There’s messages of warning in his eyes and glitches all around him, but the only thing he feels in that moment is the lingering traces of completion and an urge for more, more,  _ more _. He doesn’t need Ink to continue, but he  _ wants  _ him to, crashing be damned. _

_ And what Error wants, he always tries to get. _

_ “M-move, Ink. Please! Please, please, please- a-ah!” _

_ As it turns out, Ink likes when he begs. _

* * *

“...What am I going to do?” 

Geno smiles, but Error doesn’t think he looks nearly as distraught as this situation calls for. “Well, firstly, you’re to pull your shorts up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because not keeping them on lead to this.” At his sour expression, the glitch held his hands up with an apologetic grin. “Sorry, sorry… but seriously, Error. Get up, okay? Put your shorts back on, brush your teeth, and meet me downstairs. I’ll warm a blanket up for you again and, if you think you can handle it, something light to eat, too.”

His stomach wasn’t churning, but Error didn’t know if he could handle food so soon after choking up what little lunch he ate earlier. “No… no food.”

“Tea?”

“Ugh.” He… really didn’t like tea. Not ever since he mixed up mugs and took a sip of Ink’s dirty paint water in place of chamomile. “Water… please,” he added begrudgingly. 

“A warm blanket and water. Sounds good.” Geno stood, but waited until Error pushed himself up and clothed himself before heading to the door. “Oh, and Error?”

Fumbling with the cap on the toothpaste, Error scowled and shot him a look that landed on angry when it was meant to convey curiosity. “What?”

“I called Ink. He’s on his way back.”

When his toothbrush hits the floor, it barely makes a sound. There’s the drop, a slight clack as it impacts with the tile floor, and then silence.

The whale-like noise Error makes when he sinks down is much, much louder.

* * *

_ By the end of the night, Error is tired, sated, and more than just a little filthy. _

_ Ink, on the other hand, still seems to have a little spunk left in him. _

_ “Is this okay…?” the artist in question whispered, chest pressed against his back while skillful fingers skimmed across smooth flesh. “Does it hurt?” _

_ Eyes shut, Error shifted slightly and exhaled softly as those seeking phalanges dipped low. With a moan, he shook his head. “It… it’s fine…” Whether or not that would last much longer, he didn’t know, but for now? The hand between his thighs and the shaft grinding against his lumbar was perfect. “I-Ink…” _

_ Fingers thrust then curled. “You’re so messy, Ru… all my magic is spilling out of you.” For emphasis, Ink briefly withdrew his phalanges to swipe his fingertips over the sluggish trail of cum leaking from Error’s abused sex. Collecting what he could, he pushed the cooling magic back into the destroyer and revealed in the moans that fell from Error’s mouth. “You should let me try out my paints on you one day. You look really good smeared with color.” _

_ “I...idiot…” he panted, hips alternating between thrusting towards the fingers thoroughly fucking Ink’s mess back into him and the throbbing cock drooling more magic across his lower back. “Ink… I-Ink…!” _

_ “Shhh… I got you, Ruru. I got you.” With his first three phalanges busy, Ink resorted to using his thumb to scrape over Error’s clit with the wicked intention of making him cry out. “Mm, you’re so wet… does it feel good, Error?” He refuses to answer that, but his stubbornness only makes Ink chuckle as he withdraws his fingers. “Can I…?” _

_ After tipping over the edge who knows how many times, Error is drained. His eyes are still closed and sleep is just around the corner… and yet, the thought of just a little bit more pleasure appeals to him. Ink has already caught his interest by stirring up his inside, so… why not? His body was still complying and Error… _

_ “M’not moving.” _

_ “Heh, that’s fine, Ru. I’ll do all the work.” _

_...Well, Error kind of liked being pampered. _

* * *

“You called Ink?!” Why? Why in the name of all that was unholy would Geno do that? No wait, Error know why:  _ Because he was a fucking asshole.  _ “When you asked, I said  _ not  _ to call him, you fucking dumbass!”

Geno didn’t offer a hand to help him up. They both knew that Error wouldn’t be able to accept it. “Error, the only reason he isn’t here right now is because  _ you  _ told him my cooking gave you food poisoning and sent him to the store for something that would help. On  _ Gyftmas,  _ no less, which probably resulted in a wild goose chase in order to find something still open. Instead of letting him run around in the cold, I told him to come back to the party. To  _ you.”  _ Almost as an apology, Geno added, “He doesn’t know what’s really going on.”

“I don’t want him to know!” Snatching up his toothbrush, Error pulled himself up with the help of the sink and gave the toothbrush a rinse before sticking it in his mouth with some toothpaste. “Fuck,  _ I  _ didn’t want to know what was really going on with me.” It was why he kept changing in the dark. No ecto encased soulings, no pregnancy. “Until I puked, I was perfectly content to ignore every fucking warning sign screaming at me that I… that I’m…”

Geno waited until he spat and rinsed his mouth to speak. “Pregnant?”

“...Yeah…” Error whispered, glancing at the test still littering the bathroom floor. “That.”

Unimpressed by his behavior but sympathetic to his cause, Geno sighed and motioned Error to follow him. For the most part, the guest downstairs were unaware of what was going on. A few may have had an inkling that Error’s sudden illness was more than food poisoning or a stomach bug, but he had yet to confirm anything and had no plans of doing so without his brother’s okay. Still, there was an empty armchair waiting for Error in the living room and the promise of a warm blanket he still had to fulfill. Maybe some chocolate too once the destroyer decided he could handle something so sweet.

And yet, they only made it halfway to the stairs before Error stopped. 

“...Glitchface?”

He ignored the nickname. “Yeah, Error?”

“I’m...” Error swallowed, fearful and humiliated all at once to admit that he… was more than just lost, but was actually- “...scared. Fuck, I… I’m so fucking scared, Geno.”

“Oh, Error…”

* * *

_ At some point, he falls asleep wrapped up in a soiled sheet with Ink curled around him as much as the shorter skeleton can manage. He’s warm, he’s comfortable… _

_ And then he wakes, hours after exhaustion pushed him into a slumber. _

_ When he does so, it’s to the ticklish sensation of fingertips lightly tracing the neutral curve of his smile as well as the sleepy shape of his sockets. After the night he and Ink just shared, the touch is tame… but it  _ burns.

_ Flinching back, Error scrambled to put distance between them before the burn could settle in as painful itch. “D...don’t…!” he warned when Ink reached out to him in confused concern. _

_ Faced with sporadic glitching and familiar text creeping into the destroyer’s vision, Ink pauses, familiar with the tells of Error’s phobia. Then, he relaxes with a pleasant smile meant to hide his disappointment. “Morning, Error.” _

_ Error’s phobia doesn’t make sense. It never has. Every time he thinks he found a pattern or a work around his fears, he’s proven wrong. The thing is, Error is used to it. He’s been dealing with this shit for years. _

_ And yet, he finds himself disappointed all the same. A night full of amazing contact and wild passion… but he won’t be able to so much as kiss his boyfriend good morning today. _

* * *

After his admission, the fears start pouring out without an end in sight. “Ink and I have been doing this… boyfriend bullshit for a while now, but I can barely handle cuddling for more than an hour on a  _ good  _ day. I… I mean we fucked and all, obviously, but getting to that point was  _ hard  _ and I haven’t even been able to  _ kiss  _ him since then because it fucking  _ burns.  _ And that’s just my  _ boyfriend.  _ What am I going to do with kids, Geno? What happens if Ink is gone and they need me and I fucking drop them on their heads because I crash while carrying them? Or… or fuck, what if it’s worse than that? What if carrying them  _ now  _ hurts?”

As he spoke, Geno’s comforting expression gradually shifted to surprise. “Th… them? As in… more than one?” Quickly, the glitch himself waved away the question. “S-sorry, that’s not important at the moment.  _ Does  _ it hurt right now, Error? Carrying your children, I mean.”

Thankfully, he was able to shake his head. “No… no, it doesn’t, but nothing ever makes sense about my bullshit. For all I know, I’m going to wake up screaming tomorrow because there’s two little souls touching my insides.”

“It’s been a month though, hasn’t it? If that was going to be the case, then wouldn’t you be feeling the affects right now?”

“I don’t know!” And that was what made it so scary. 

He didn’t know just how far his own phobia could extend. Only a few years ago, the mere  _ thought  _ of someone reaching out and laying their hands on him was enough to leave him with trembling hands and the urge to scratch the phantom itch from his bones. Things were better now, but better didn’t mean great, or even good. Strangers would most likely always send him into a hard crash if they got too close and those he knew well and secretly trusted still put him at risk of spiraling. And now, he had children to worry about.  _ His own  _ children, at that.

“These… these _things_ are going to depend on me, both now and for years to come. They’re going to need my milk, my comfort… fuck, they’re going to want to be picked up and held _but_ _I can’t do that.”_

“Error…”

“I’m known for  _ destroying,  _ Geno. Usually, I wouldn’t give a shit if I made a kid cry, but… but…”

“These aren’t just  _ a  _ kid,” Geno filled in. “They’re  _ your  _ kids, and you don’t want to be responsible for hurting them.”

Shoulders hunching, Error averted his gaze and nodded. “I don’t know what to do. This… fuck, this isn’t something I ever planned to do. I’m not getting rid of them,” he said before Geno could ask, “and I… I’m not fucking giving them away. They’re mistakes, but… but they’re  _ my  _ fucking mistakes. They’re my… baby abominations. I just… don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with them.”

“Well…” A little lost on just how to help, Geno offered an unsure smile that wavered with his own nervousness and fear. “You and Ink are more than welcomed to borrow some of the parenting books I bought.”

Parenting books? “The hell do you have those for? You don’t- oh.” Now that he thought about it, this was his first time seeing the shorter skeleton in a while. There… was absolutely no way Geno could have had those tests ready for him. “What the fuck, you’re-”

“Pregnant,” Geno mumbled, embarrassed. “I… found out a few days ago. No one knows yet, not even Reaper, but…” with a nervous smile and shrug, the glitch motioned to Error. “I… wanted you to know that, although this whole thing is really,  _ really  _ scary, it isn’t something you have to face alone. For all you deny our brotherly bond-”

“Because I don’t want to be associated with such a fucking dork.”

“-I still care about you, Error. So does Fresh, in his own way, and Reaper,  _ and  _ Ink. You’ll figure things out, okay? And you’ll have help along the way.”

Fuck Geno for flinging bullshit in his eyes and making them water. “Whatever.”

“Everything is going to turn out just fine, Error. Just… try to lean on your family when you need help. And maybe think about your boyfriend that he’s going to be a father?”

Error glared, “Didn’t you  _ just  _ admit and  _ your husband  _ doesn’t know about the baby  _ you’re  _ carrying? How about you tell him first, then  _ I’ll  _ tell Ink.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah, that’s what I-” faltering, the destroyer watched as a grin settled on the shorter skeleton’s face. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Geno echoed. Slowly, his gaze slid in the direction of the bathroom and his grin widened. “Heh, and I know  _ just  _ how to make the announcement, too. I have another box handy and everything…”

Error looked on in dread.

* * *

_ After no less than fifteen kisses are blown his way, Ink heads off to meet up with the rest of the Stars and begin their patrol. Error has every intention of making things difficult for the trio by pulling strings, literally, in an AU or two, but those plans go out the window the moment he sits up and the warm blanket around him drops. _

_ Stunned, he stares at his still summoned form. _

_ “Wh… what the  _ **_fuck…?!”_ **

* * *

It’s Geno’s idea to give Reaper and Ink the two gifts together. The god and artist look a little confused at the insistence, but both are eager enough for their presents that they’re more than willing to overlook the odd break from the rule that everyone take turns in opening their things. 

In his excitement, Ink tears through the wrapping paper and gets to the box first. Reaper is only seconds behind.

Simultaneously, they open their individual boxes. Then, they freeze.

Three positive pregnancy test sit nestled in tissue paper, two within Ink’s gift box and only one in Reaper’s.

“Ge...no…?” Reaper whispered.

Ink stared at the positive markings dumbly. “Ru…?”

Everyone cheers when Reaper swoops Geno up into an emotional kiss, but their applause falls on deaf ears as Error nervously meets Ink’s eyes. He’s still nervous, and afraid, and more than just a little lost…

But then Ink smiles and he… Well, Error is still all those things, but he thinks that he may just be happy too.

“Merry Gyftmas, squid.”

* * *

Bonus!

When it comes time for Ink to pass his own gift over to Error, he seems embarrassed. “I thought this would be neat, but…” His laughter is breathless with lingering surprise, but fond. “I don’t think there’s anything in the world that can beat the  _ two  _ gifts you’re giving me. Still… here, Ruru! Merry Gyftmas.”

Curious, he all but shreds the decorative paper around his gift. The box is small, but that only increases his curiosity. A little doll, maybe? He did show Ink how to make small voodoo dolls a while bac-

The box flips open to reveal a ring.

“Marry me, Ru?”  __


	2. Collab.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't pregnancy just the ultimate collaboration?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For TKWolf45

The thing about having an idiot for a fiancé who had a worse memory than a fucking goldfish was that it made it extremely difficult to keep track of certain things. In all fairness, Ink wasn’t the only one at fault here when it came to having a shit memory. As much as he liked to bitch about Ink’s tiny, shitty brain, Error couldn’t exactly deny that his own memory was far from perfect. 

No… no, wait. That was a lie. He denied it all the time.

Still, denial or not, Error _did_ struggle sometimes, mostly in regards to figuring out what the hell his own origin story was. Then again, that wasn’t exactly something he tried all that hard to recall. Who cared where he came from or how he was made? Not him. And for good reason, too. Agonizing over the past was better suited for kinky fuckers like Geno who got off on pain. Error may have been a lot of things, but he wasn’t a fucking masochist. Oddly enough, he kind of regretted that fact. If he was into pain, then maybe the random aches plaguing him throughout the day would have felt good. 

_‘Tch, fucking Geno.’_ Knowing that asshole, he was probably reaping up the benefits of achy breast and sore nipples with the Grim Reaper himself. _‘I hope that bastard chokes on breastmilk.’_ It would serve Reaper right for being gross and putting his mouth on those things when there was a baby in his husband. _‘Disgusting abominations, the both of them.’_

Shifting slightly, Error discreetly pressed his thighs together and stared down at his chest, glaring. _‘...I wonder how it would feel if Ink…’_

“Okay Ru! I think I finally found it! It’s been… nine weeks? No, wait…” Squinting, Ink practically pressed his face against his scarf in an attempt to make out a few lines of smeared writing. “This says… _mine?_ Huh, I don’t… know why that’s on here… Oh! _Oh!_ This is _your_ handwriting! Aww, did you claim me, Error? How cute~”

Dark bone brightened with a golden blush. “Why the fuck would I write stupid shit like that on your scarf?!” 

It wasn’t like the artist looked infuriatingly attractive in his new clothing or anything. No, he looked fucking stupid in his overalls. They were dumb, like his lack of shoes and those damn… what? Leggings? Socks? Whatever the hell Ink wore that didn’t do their fucking job in covering his feet. Overall, Ink looked like shit and Error definitely wasn’t worried about assholes looking at the artist and getting _ideas._

And he sure as hell wasn’t concerned that all this bullshit weight gain would give Ink a reason to involve himself in those… _ideas_ that others had. Nope. Not. At. All. It wasn’t like Ink cared that he was steadily starting to look like a whale or anything. Hell, they even did some heaving petting last night! Obviously, Ink was still interested. _Attracted._ Error even had the ring on his finger and a hickey on the inside of his thigh to prove it. 

There was no way he’d be insecure enough to scribble a claim on the artist’s new scarf...

“I found another one! Aww, and you signed this one! Oh! I think this smudge is part of your name too! And here-”

...and he certainly wasn’t pathetic enough to do it twelve times.

“Just find the stupid number, squid,” he grumbled, begging Fate or Destiny or whoever was out there beyond the stars responsible for all this bullshit that Ink wouldn’t find the signature with the little heart. “That stupid glitchy bastard is making me go to his appointment with him next week, so I need to know.”

“Heh, _you_ could be considered a glitchy bastard too, Ruru,” Ink pointed out, dodging the cushion tossed at his head as he looked over the rest of notes scribbled across his scarf. Something within him warmed upon finding a little ‘Error’s 💙’ tucked beneath an old grocery list. “Why do you need to know what week you’re on if the appointment is for Geno?”

“He’s the world’s shittiest liar, damnit. If he isn’t bullshitting the fact that his weird ass, creepy husband can’t make it, then I’ll eat my fucking sandals. Reaper is the clingiest fucker I ever met. There’s no way that asshole would choose work over ditching to spend time with Glitchface.”

“Oh?” Ink hummed, turning his scarf over and searching again. _‘I should probably get rid of these older notes soon…’_ The fabric was starting to look cramped. “What does Geno being a bad liar have to do with you going?”

“ _Because,”_ Error growled, “It’s obvious that the fucking appointment is for _me,_ dumbass. He’s using himself as a cover. Tch, as if I don’t know what bullshit smells like by no— what?”

Symbols continued to stare at Error, their color off just enough to leave the destroyer feeling unnerved. “You think the appointment is for you…?” 

“...Yeeeah…?” Error slowly replied.

“What’s the appointment for…?”

The destroyer shrugged. “Dunno. Geno schedules his shit with Sci if he can, so it’s not usually the same procedure as a normal visit, or some shit like that. I think he said something about an ultrasound?” 

Just a week or so ago, Error would have questioned the need for that. Up until a few days back, he was able to see his soulings just fine, but then he woke up one day to darkened ecto concealing his children. Geno called it a protective measure or some shit. Error called it fucked up skeleton biology. 

“Ultrasound…? Like… like getting a picture of the baby…?” 

“Do I look like _I’m_ Sci, idiot? I don’t know the first thing about any of this shit!” And he definitely wasn’t trying to change that through research, nope. 

For a long moment, Ink continued to stare with those weirdly unchanging symbols of them. Then, he blinked as the color of his eyes brightened, a golden star shining in one socket while a blue sun rapidly spun in the other. “I want to go with.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. “The fuck do you want to go with for, idiot?” What, Ink wanted to watch him sit on some annoying ass crinkly paper while Sci talked at him? “Don’t you have better shit to do?”

“I want to go!” Ink insisted, firmly. “I don’t _think_ I have plans, but even if I do they don’t matter right now! I want to go to this appointment too, Ruru!”

Well, if Ink was so insistent… “Cool, call Geno and tell him you’re going instead of me. If he cancels, then that means I’m right.”

Strangely, the artist seemed displeased. Weird considering the fact that Ink liked a good prank or two. “No,” he whined, “Error, I want to go _because_ it may be for you!” Seeing that Error clearly didn’t get it, the artist sighed, “Ru, they’re my soulings too. Ink Junior and Broomy The Second—”

“I said we are _not_ fucking naming them that!”

“—They’re _our_ children, Error. Sure, you’re probably just being paranoid and the appointment is actually for your brother—”

“I’m telling you I’m right! Those fuckers are practically glued at the hip to one another! Reaper not going is wei—”

 _“But,”_ Ink continued, voice raised, “if it isn’t? If it’s for you? Then I want to be there, Error. Not just for them, but for you—my fiancé.”

Fuck his body for flinging hormones into his eyes. “Tch, i-idiot,” Error croaked. 

Ink smiled softly and let his scarf slip from his hands so that he could pull his moody destroyer closer. Thankfully, it was a good day. No intense haphephobia or stubbornness on Error’s end to keep him from admitting he wanted to cuddle. 

“I may be an idiot, but I’m _your_ idiot, Ru,” he whispered, nuzzling a dark cheek and resting a hand on Error’s rounding belly. “If the appointment does end up being for you, then remind me to make Geno a picture or something as thanks. Oh!” His eyes lit up. “I should offer to paint their nursery!”

“What for?” Error grumbled, though he didn’t bother clarifying which of Ink’s statements the words were directed at.

Luckily, his artist knew him well. “Neither of us really know what we’re doing, Error. Dream’s been trying to teach me, but it’s… a lot. Until now, I didn’t even really think about the fact that you probably need a regular doctor now. Or maybe I did, but forgot to write it down?” No, he would have definitely made a note of something so important. “The point is, we’re both learning. Geno and Reaper are too, but he potentially took time from his own worries to set something up for you too. That… that’s really nice, Ru.”

“...Yeah, it is…” Error agreed, quiet. It was a weird habit of his; speaking more quietly whenever he wasn’t being a total asshole. Sometimes, Ink wondered if the taller skeleton worried over people realizing that he could be nice. Error’s version of nice, but still… nice. “Geno isn’t a total piece of shit, I guess. There’s worse brothers out there.”

“Brothers, huh?” Ink teased.

And yet, Error didn’t bother denying it this time. Instead, he merely huffed and tucked his face in Ink’s neck to hide. “So, did you ever find the number?” he asked after a few moments of silence, wincing as he shifted slightly. Stupid, stupid achy breast. Why did they need to start growing now? 

Catching his discomfort, Ink adjusted his hold on the other skeleton to allow his free hand to come up and take a hold of Error’s chest. At the bold touch, Error tensed with a sharp reprimand on the tip of his tongue, but a quiet, “Trust me,” from Ink had him holding back his words for now. Admittedly, the touch didn’t _seem_ sexual, but… 

A filthy moan left Error when the artist began kneading his chest. _That_ was definitely a sexual sound, but he… okay, he was a little turned on, but enough to want to do anything about it. It just felt… good. 

“Better…?” Ink questioned, reluctantly removing his hand from Error’s stomach in order to massage both soft mounds at once. “You’ve been rubbing at your chest as day. Do they hurt?” That was normal with growth like this, right?

“Mmm…” was all Error offered, his sockets shut once again after flying open at Ink’s initial touch. “...Number…?”

Ink smiled, eyes on his fiancé’s baby bump rather than the chest he was blatantly groping during his massage. “Ten weeks, Error,” he shared, smile growing. “You’re ten weeks along with our little ones.”

Error’s response was more groaning than words. “...M’kay…” A soft, quiet sigh of pleasure. “This is your new job now.”

“You want me to stop the protection of the multiverse in order to become a… breast masseuse?” 

“I wouldn’t have twins making me need to pee all the damn if you were any good at _protection._ ” When fingers pinched his nipple in retaliation at the dig, Error hissed and smacked the hand responsible at way. “Don’t touch those right now, asshole. They hurt.”

“Sorry, sorry…” Apologetic, Ink returned to the massaging that the destroyer seemed to enjoy so much. “...Is this really helping…?” He wasn’t opposed to the way Error was getting so pleasantly squishy, but he had to admit that he didn’t really picture touching his fiancé like this outside of sex. It was… kind of nice, actually. Maybe he had a kink for making Error feel good? “...Error…?”

Silence, then a soft snore.

Heh.

“I hope you two are as cute as your Ruru.”

* * *

**Bonus!**

“You won’t see any defining details for another three weeks or so, but… there we go…” Sci grinned, motioning to the screen with his chin. “You see those two shapes there? The things right there? That’s your kiddos, guys.”

“...That’s our brats…” Error breathed, hand tight around Ink’s and tears stinging his eyes. “Holy fuck, squid. We- you made those. You finally made something I can fucking stand.” It made his skin crawl to cry in front of a crowded room, but Error didn’t bother forcing the tears back. “They’re beautiful.”

“They look like beans,” Geno chuckled, happily tucked away in the corner of the room with his husband. 

“Shut the fuck up, Glitchface. They’re… t-they’re the cutest fucking beans you’ve ever seen, so… so…” A hiccup turned into a sob. “Fight me if you’re going to diss my children.”

Smiling, Geno shook his head, “I’m good, Error.”

“Ink?” Reaper called out, amused. It was nice to see the artist in the same stunned position he was in just a few days ago. “You good there, buddy?”

“...I made these with you, Ru…” Ink whispered, awed. “W _e_ made these! _Together!_ And it’s… stars, they’re so beautiful, just like you said.” A little incredulous, the artist laughed, added, “And to think, you once told me you’d never create. But look, Error. _Look.”_

Crying softly, Ink reached out and skimmed his fingers over the screen showcasing their children.

“Look at our little collaborations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I wasn't planning to continue this. I had some ideas, but they weren't really meant to be put into motion. In all honesty, that hasn't changed so this story is going to remain marked as complete. That being said, I make no promises that I won't toss in more additions to this every now and then.
> 
> Also, if things are wonky or don't make sense, please give me a break. I had four teeth yanked out of my mouth today, damnit. I tried my best while in pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to all you dear readers who stopped by to check this out! Thank you for your support and comments and/or kudos!!!


End file.
